"I want him this instant. Go and call him. Bid him come down from his bed, if he be in it! Tell him I have news for him." "Come in and see him for yourself," said the mistress of the inn sharply, not caring for the man's peremptory orders. "Why should I obey the orders of any night rider who chooses to pull up at my inn door?" "I cannot waste my time. I want to ride elsewhere," the man cried irritably. "Tell him it will be necessary to come at once. And look you, mistress, if you stand idling there, and things should go awry, Doctor Cochlaeus will make it bad for you." The woman turned away and went into the house, and the watchers at the window heard the rider call loudly for a stableman to bring his horse some water. The light over the inn door showed them a man in the saddle of a foam-covered horse that breathed heavily with his hard journey. They could hear the burst of his breath, and still the man sat on, turning an eager face towards the door. Someone came out, and Herman and Margaret knew him. "Cochlaeus," the girl whispered, shivering with fear and drawing nearer to her lover's side. "What is this news you bring, fellow?" cried the Churchman, with some asperity at being called out of his warm bed. The rider did not waste an instant. "My lord of Hautcoeur has a man in his dungeon who, he says, is that English heretic, William Tyndale. He passed the castle gate a few hours after you had gone, and he bade me ride hard after you and bring you back at once, that he may get his troublesome prisoner off his hands, lest he may escape as he did from the castle of the lord of Schouts. Will you come at once?" The rider's strident voice rang through the night, but the answer was decisive. "Ho, there! Adam Kraft, call your soldiers to their saddles. That fellow, Tyndale, is in the dungeon at Hautcoeur, and we ride thither at once. Mistress, tell your stableman to get my horse ready. I must start at once." There was an instant bustle. One by one the soldiers came round with their horses, grouping in the open space before the inn, and their helmets glanced in the light which streamed from the passage. Then came the horse which Cochlaeus was to ride, and before many minutes, with a soldier's aid, he was in the saddle. "Are you ready?" he asked, looking round when he had gathered up the reins. The answering cry assured him, and, bidding the mistress of the inn a curt farewell, he spurred his horse and galloped away into the darkness, followed by his men. At every bound he was leaving the man he sought for farther behind him. The night settled down into silence when the last of the horsemen had disappeared. "They are gone," said Herman, meeting the woman on the stairs. "Yes. Now get you gone also, in God's dear name. Was ever anything so good? To think that my lord of Hautcoeur should think he hath Master Tyndale in his dungeon!" The woman clapped her hands in ecstasy.